003. Light

A quick explosion of endless proportion filled the air over Hiroshima. A quick flash that only lasted seconds, a quick spark that would change the lives of millions. A blast of light that would turn the world on its head. A luminescent caricature of a government's intense strategy to eliminate and succeed.

The cloud, a mushroom shape, poofed up into the sky with a speed just slower than the flash itself. It's massive span of death extending its fingers up and over the dying port. Draping its arms into an embrace that would smother its victim; a hug that would suffocate its lover until it fell to the ground, cold and dead.

Trees were enveloped in light as their shadows permanently inked themselves to the buildings, the human like arms of their branches reaching out for the saplings beneath them. The buildings flew away, up into the sky like small baby crows who had just been pushed out of the nest for the first time. The people were dissipated, it was as if they were never there in the first place.

Up above, in a plane, America stared down with a pair of sunglasses over his face. They could hardly cover the brightness of the light that his bomb created. They couldn't even come close to shading the strange feeling he felt in his gut. The visceral contempt that he held as he watched hundreds upon thousands of previously living people disappear before his eyes.

Off, in another plane, the opposite side mourned. Japan sat in the cockpit, next to the pilot. Silently, he gazed down through the window at what had become of his city. The flash of devastating light encapsulated not only his plane, but his soul. His tears reflected the picture of the intense cloud multiple times as they fell slowly down his cheeks. The jet shot away with speed to avoid the after shocks of the bomb, and Kiku turned to look back at the American plane that was right beside them. He snarled at it and yelled loud curses that nobody could hear. The just of what he said fell along the lines of, "How dare you punish those who had done nothing? How dare you go forth and pull such a stunt over my people?" as well as a cry that was loud enough to soar over the sound of the plane engines. "How would you like me to forge this grief I feel into your heart with hot steel?" Though the overall correctness of what he said may have differed, give or take a couple more swears and a couple more curses.

Alfred, on the other hand, removed his sunglasses as the light dulled and diminished. He reached into his pocket in order to grasp an already dirtied rag. With it, he smoothed his thumbs over the glasses and cleansed them of the tears that had made their way onto them. After a brisk sigh and the straightening of his attire, he tapped the shoulder of the pilot. "Alright, only one more left to go."